Undercover Work Ain't All It's Cracked Up To Be
by DinerGuy
Summary: When the Psych account starts running low yet again, Gus gives Shawn an assignment. Who knew it would add up with a job from the chief to create an unusual situation for Lassiter and Shawn?
1. The Job

Betaed by Hutchster on Psychfic.  
Originally written May 2009.

Disclaimer: Psych and its characters belong to the creators and the network. This fic is written solely for pleasure; no profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

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"Shawn, look at this."

"What is it, Gus? Can't it wait? I'm about to beat this record."

Gus stalked over to the television and switched it off. He crossed his arms and gave his friend a stern look. "We need to talk."

"Why, what happened?" Shawn gasped. "Did Mrs. Pickles have her kittens? How many are there? Can I have one?"

"No, Shawn. Besides, Mrs. Pickles isn't even real." He rushed on before Shawn could interject anything else. "I want to talk about this."

Shawn tossed his controller down and took the paper from Gus' outstretched hand. "The Psych credit card bill?"

"What do you notice on there?"

"That we have a great sense of taste in office accessories?"

"The cost of those accessories!"

"Oh. Hey, we aren't overdrawn!"

"Just barely!" Gus sighed. "Shawn, you need to quit spending so much money. I don't make enough at the pharmaceutical company to continually cover all my own expenses as well as the expenses for Psych – not to mention the extra stuff you buy all the time."

"We make money here." Shawn sounded offended.

"Yeah, but not enough. How many cases have we had in the past month?"

"Uh … one."

"One, that's right. And how much did we make on that one? Was it enough to pay our expenses here this month? Or how about last month?"

"Business is slow, Gus. What else can I say?"

"How about, 'I'll get a side job to help you pay the expenses.'?"

"What?"

"Yes, Shawn. You either get some other job to help pay the bills, or I am out of here."

"But, Gus …" Shawn whined.

"No, Shawn, no 'buts.' Now get yours moving and find some source of income unless you want to be running Psych on your own."

"All right, fine," Shawn huffed. "But only until Psych business picks up again. A guy can't juggle two jobs at once."

"Yeah? What have I been doing all this time?"

WMWMWMWMWMWMWMW

Later that afternoon, Shawn returned. Gus was still at his desk, taking care of the last few bills.

"So, how'd it go?" Gus wanted to know.

Shawn posed dramatically. "Meet the newest security guard for the SBPD Shipping and Supply Co."

"The what?"

"Security guard. You know, those guys who make sure everything at the warehouse is still there in the morning?"

"I know what a security guard is, Shawn."

"Then why'd you ask me?"

"Because I can't see you being a security guard."

"Please, Gus. I've had so many jobs between high school and now. This is just reprising one of them."

"I can't see you staying up all night and actually being able to function, either."

"Well, as you've pointed out, I don't have any work here, so I can sleep late."

"Shawn, you already sleep late."

"Noon? That's not late."

Gus just rolled his eyes.

"Fine. Go ahead and be like that. But when I start bringing in a paycheck to help out around here, you owe me an apology."

"Shawn, if you last longer than a week, I'll buy you a smoothie."

"You're on."

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Shawn and Gus entered Chief Vick's office later that day to find Detectives Carlton Lassiter and Juliet O'Hara already waiting with the chief. The head detective was holding a file, and Shawn's quick eye caught its label, as well as the labels on the files on the chief's desk.

"Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster. Thank you for coming."

"Sure thing, Chief. You know we always come when you call." Shawn plopped into one of the chairs in front of her desk. "You wanted to talk to us about the warehouse robberies?"

Vick raised her eyebrows. "Yes, as a matter of fact. There have been a string of warehouse robberies throughout the Santa Barbara area, and we have reason to believe they were all orchestrated by the same gang."

"What makes you think that?" Gus asked.

"The group of people breaking into these places all have the same MO. They come in the middle of the night, disable the alarms and subdue the guards, and take thousands of dollars worth of items when they leave. The guards were all knocked unconscious before they could see any of the robbers, and we don't have enough evidence yet to arrest anyone. This is where you come in, Mr. Spencer."

"You want me to go undercover in the gang?" Shawn asked, eyes lighting up.

"No, that would be me," Lassiter spoke up.

"Aw, why does Lassie get all the fun? I could do it just as well as he could," Shawn complained.

"Detective Lassiter happens to be the man I've chosen, and that's final. Mr. Spencer, I need you to give me whatever information you can on these robberies and the gang pulling them off. We have information that the next place that will be hit is the SBPD Shipping and Supply Co."


	2. The Confrontation

"I know that one of the guards there can help you." Shawn grinned mischievously.

"Really? And who is that?" Lassiter asked in a disbelieving tone.

"Seriously, Lassie, did you even check the employee list there?"

"Why would we need to do that? We know for certain that these robberies are not inside jobs."

Shawn held up a finger. "True. But if you had, you'd have seen Shawn Spencer under the security guard list."

"Shawn Spen – Oh, no, you're not saying …"

"Oh yes I am."

"When did you become a security guard? I thought you were a psychic detective."

"Yeah, well, Whiney-pants here says we're too poor for me to just play detective all the time."

Gus elbowed his friend. "Shawn, you know we needed the money to keep Psych running."

"No, it was because you couldn't afford all the fun stuff."

"No, it was because _you_ –"

"Gentlemen, please," the chief interrupted. "Mr. Spencer, are you saying you're working as a security guard for the SBPD Shipping and Supply Co?"

"Yes, Chief, I am."

"I normally wouldn't allow this, but," she sighed, "since you're already employed there, I'd like you to be our man inside the warehouse. See if you can find out anything about why the robbers are striking these places, and do what you can to see if the gang has any inside help.

"I'll expect to hear from you tomorrow. Until then, go … do whatever it is you do." She waved a hand in dismissal.

"Aye-aye, Chief." Shawn saluted and marched out of the office.

Gus followed close behind. "Shawn! She's actually letting you work undercover in a case!"

"Well, it isn't technically 'undercover' since I already had a job there, but isn't it awesome?"

Lassiter passed them just then, the usual scowl on his face deeper than usual. "Spencer, don't think for a minute that you can fool around with this. You would have been my last pick for the job, but the chief put you in it, so try not to screw things up."

"You know, you should really clarify your meanings. Like, if you meant you would've picked Jules over me, that'd totally be understandable. But what if you wanted –"

Lassiter just shook his head and stalked off to his desk.

"Thanks, Lassie; I'm really feeling the love here!"

"Shawn, quit yelling in the police station," Gus scolded.

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Anyone in the SBPD a few days later could hear the two coming from the minute they stepped through the door.

"Those bags under my eyes are not from the job, Gus!"

"Oh yes they are. It's wearing you out, isn't it?"

"It is not! If you must know, there was an 'I Love The 80's' movie marathon on yesterday, and I didn't get to sleep any before work."

They banged open the chief's door to find the detectives and Vick waiting for them.

"Could you two possibly make any more noise?" Lassiter asked. "You sound like stampede of elephants coming down the hall."

"Elephants? Dude, is that the best you could come up with? How about something closer to what we actually look like?"

"Fine, Spencer. You sound like a bunch of monkeys."

"Detective, please," Vick interrupted. She turned to Shawn and Gus. "Thank you for coming, gentlemen. Detective Lassiter has been able to provide us with descriptions and information on all the members of the gang. What I need from you, Mr. Spencer, is anything you might have on the employees of the warehouse."

"Nope, nothing." Shawn shook his head. "Everyone there seems clean. Except for one guy who I don't think knows how to use a shower."

When all he got were blank stares, he cleared his throat. "But, yeah; they're all innocent."

"Good. Now, Detective Lassiter says the gang is planning to hit the SBPD Shipping and Supply Co. tonight at midnight. Detective O'Hara will be leading a team in for a raid at 12:30. That way we'll be able to catch them in the act. Your job, Mr. Spencer, is to take this," she handed him a small video recorder, "and tape some of the robbery. We need all the evidence we can get to convict these people. And please keep yourself out of the way while you do. The last thing we need is for them to know we're coming."

"Will do," Shawn responded, accepting the device.

"Good. Any questions?"

Shawn raised his hand.

The chief sighed. "Yes, Mr. Spencer?"

"Do we get cool earpieces and radio back and forth?"

"No; I don't believe that's necessary. Anything suspicious about Detective Lassiter will tip the men off to us."

"Oh. Well, can I have one to talk with Jules?"

"You don't need one, Mr. Spencer."

"Well –"

"Anyone else have any questions?" Vick broke off Shawn's questioning.

When they all shook their heads, she nodded. "All right, then. You know your parts. Let's get this done right."

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Shawn shifted in place. He'd been in the same cramped position for several minutes, and his muscles were starting to protest.

The gang was set to arrive in the next five minutes or so. Knowing that they took out the guards first, Shawn had found a place to conceal himself until they were busy loading the loot into their trucks. He was having a hard time staying attentive to all the sounds. He kept catching himself nodding off.

_Come on, Shawn! You need to stay with it! How else are you going to help catch these guys?_

The creaking of the loading dock door opening caught his attention. Several motors rumbled to life, and he heard the sounds of vehicles being backed into the warehouse.

Shawn waited a few minutes until it sounded like the men were hard at work, then snuck around until he could see what was going on.

The gang was spread around the dock, carrying boxes into the backs of several large trucks. Shawn's eye picked out Lassiter hard at work among the others. He snickered to himself at the detective breaking the law. It had to be killing Lassie.

Pulling the camcorder out of his pocket, Shawn turned it on and pointed it towards the loading dock. He panned around, making sure he caught everyone on the tape. However, he was too tired to pay much attention to his surroundings. He didn't hear anyone behind him until it was too late.

"Got ya!" the man snarled.

Before Shawn could say anything, the man had yanked the camcorder from his hand and hauled him out into the open. "Well, look what I found, boys!"

The men turned from their work for a better view of the interruption. Shawn was trying his best to get away, but his captor was at least twice his size. There was no way he was going to escape.


	3. The Punch

The man threw his prisoner roughly to the ground and turned to the others. "I caught this guy spyin' on us. He musta been able to evade our cleaner team somehow."

The attitude of the circle immediately changed from curiosity to anger.

"Wasn't that Jake's job?" one asked.

"Yeah." The big man nodded.

One of the men started to back out of the circle, but the guy next to him caught his arm.

"You ain't goin' nowhere, Jake," he snarled, pulling out a gun.

Shawn scrambled to his feet, barely noticing the rip in the knee of his uniform. He scanned the circle but couldn't see any way of getting through the group of men, all of whom had drawn their guns.

If he and Lassiter could somehow stall the gang, Jules would be there soon with backup. They just had to find a way to buy themselves another five minutes that wouldn't get them killed.

He could see from the look in the detective's eyes that his mind was also scrambling for an idea that would work.

"Greg, this isn't such a good idea," Lassiter spoke up suddenly. "The cops are going to come running the minute someone reports shots. Do you want this whole operation to go down because of one security guard?"

"Yeah, well, we can't let him go. Is that what you're suggesting? I think you might be going soft on us."

"Hey, I'm just trying to keep this group going here. That's the only reason I'm objecting."

"Guns ain't the only way to solve a problem," Greg snarled.

"Yeah, but if we leave a body, the DNA's going to be traced right back to our group. I don't know about you, but I don't want that to happen."

"You know what I think? I think you're goin' soft on us. Whaddya say, boys?" Greg turned to the others. "What say we let the new guy show us what he's made of?"

They all smiled and chuckled in agreement.

"Yeah, Robbie. Let's see what you can do," one called out.

Lassiter paused.

"What, you chicken?" Greg glared at him. "We can always let you join him. One less person to divide the money with doesn't bother me."

Lassiter snuck a glace at the clock on the wall. Only another minute or two until the team arrived. If he could wait long enough …

"Robbie!" Greg's voice was hard and threatening.

"Fine, fine. Don't get yourself in a wad; I'll do it." Lassiter stepped forward.

Shawn's eyes met his briefly, and the detective knew they had an understanding.

He paused for a moment. There had been numerous occasions when Lassiter had wanted to do this, but now that he was really doing it, he didn't feel as happy as he'd thought he would.

Pulling back his arm, he let his fist fly across the other man's jaw. Shawn's head snapped to the side, and he staggered towards Greg. The man just grinned and stuck out a foot, sending him to the ground.

Shawn shook his head to clear it before trying to get up. Knowing why Lassie had done it didn't make it any less painful. He just hoped Jules would show up and disrupt this party soon.

Another punch followed the first. There was blood running from a cut on Shawn's lip, and his eye was already swelling up. Lassiter raised his fist again but was interrupted by the _bang_ of the warehouse doors flying open.

The room was flooded with police officers in bulletproof vests, guns trained on the men inside.

"Police! Freeze!"

"Drop your guns, and put your hands in the air!"

Most of the men obeyed, though Greg attempted to use his gun before a shot to his shoulder dropped him to the ground.

The officers handcuffed the thieves and escorted them out to the waiting cruisers. Greg was taken out to an ambulance under the careful supervision of two officers.

Detective Juliet O'Hara hurried over to where her partner was assisting Shawn to his feet. The younger man seemed a little unsteady on his own.

"Shawn! Are you alright?"

Shawn nodded and grinned, wincing as his swollen face protested. "Yeah, Jules. Thanks." His voice had a slight lisp to it.

"Carlton, what happened?" Juliet asked.

Lassiter sighed. "It'll all be in my report."

WMWMWMWMWMWMWMW

Later that evening, Lassiter found Shawn relaxing in a chair at the station, icing his injuries.

Shawn waved with his free hand as the head detective approached him. "Hey there, Lassie," he greeted.

"Spencer, I just wanted to make sure everything was fine between us."

"Aw, that's sweet. I didn't realize you cared that much."

"Not normally," Lassiter snapped. "It's just that what happened back there back there is something a police officer never wants to do. I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Well, I'll live, if that makes you feel any better."

Sighing in frustration, Lassiter turned to go. Shawn's voice behind him made him pause.

"You had to do it, Lassie. It's as simple as that."

Lassiter nodded in reply and made his way back to his desk.

Gus soon arrived to take Shawn home. They hadn't even exited the station before they were arguing.

"Shawn, what is your problem?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you really have to blame Lassiter for your injuries? I mean, I know you and he aren't exactly friends, but you shouldn't accuse him of that sort of thing."

"But, Gus –"

"Come on, Shawn. What really happened?"

"I told you …"


End file.
